


The Lies We Need to Tell

by Nary



Category: Lion in Winter (1968)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Gay Character, Historical, Honesty, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-16
Updated: 2010-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he left Chinon that night, Richard paid a second visit to Philip's room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lies We Need to Tell

Before he left Chinon that night, Richard paid a second visit to Philip's room. He threw open the door without a knock. The curtains were drawn about the king's bed, the candles burnt down to their stubs. He strode up to the bed and drew the heavy fabric back. Philip sat in his nightshirt, awake, though his face was wan and tired. "Back again?" he said dryly.

"I came to tell you I'm leaving."

"You hardly owe me that courtesy. If you're leaving, then leave." In the half-light, it looked as if the young man might have been crying.

"I will, don't worry." Richard's face could have been carved from marble. "I need to know, before I leave, that you lied tonight."

"What was I supposed to say? Your father would have found out about us one day, if he didn't know already, and I couldn't let him hold that over me. Better to claim you forced me." He held his chin up, trying to maintain a battered dignity. "You'll understand when you're a king, the lies we need to tell."

"Do not lecture me on kingship, boy," Richard said, spitting out the final word like a sour cherry. "I get enough of that from my father."

Any other time, Philip would have bristled at being called a boy – at eighteen, it rankled – but instead he simply sighed. "I've said what you wanted to hear. Go, and remember me, or forget me, or whatever you choose, but just go."

Richard shook his head. "You don't get off that easily. I'll hear something else from you before I bid you adieu." He climbed onto the bed, pushing the smaller man down and pinning him beneath his weight. Philip gave a half-hearted struggle, pushing Richard's scruffy face away from his, but he was no warrior, and no match for his old lover.

Richard's hand was pushing up his nightshirt, rough against his skin, and Philip remembered their first time, in the forest. It had been gentle, or as gentle as Richard could ever be. There were no shy kisses now, just urgent grappling and fumbling with breeches, and Philip was as hard as he could ever remember being, so that he felt he would burst at the slightest touch. Thank God, he managed not to spend his seed the moment Richard's prick rubbed against his, which would have been beyond humiliating. Somehow he held himself together, though he couldn't hold back the half-choked moan as he gripped Richard's shoulders hard enough to bruise.

Richard grinned, then, and Philip had almost forgotten that smile, how it made his stomach quiver and his heart sink. "Your mouth," he said, and it was an order, not a compliment. And Philip, who took orders from no one, did as he was told and leaned down to suck the thick, meaty cock. Richard twined his fingers in his hair, moving him up and down to fuck his pretty mouth, and, God help him, he liked being used so harshly. He reached down to try and touch himself, but Richard saw and kicked his hand away. "Not yet," he said, his voice throaty, "not yet."

After a few more strokes, Richard let him up for breath, and they stared at each other, angry and desperate and hurting. Philip extended a hand, a peace offering or a simple plea for comfort. Richard grasped it, kissing the soft skin where palm met wrist, and pulled him back down so they were both stretched out on the bed. "Now?" asked Philip, and Richard nodded, obliging him by taking his cock in his hand and caressing it, surprisingly tenderly. Philip writhed under his touch, too far gone to feel ashamed by his need, and spread his legs, wanton and aching.

Richard knelt between his thighs, reaching down to run a sly finger around his asshole at the same time as he stroked his cock. "You want me," he said, half-questioning and half smug.

"Yes!" Philip gasped, needing more and at the same time dreading it.

Richard held up both his hands, stopping everything dead in its tracks. "Then say it," he demanded, even as Philip moaned and squirmed and tried to pull him back, "and I'll give you what you want."

Philip hadn't forgotten the words he'd said to Richard their first time, words he'd renounced only a few hours before. "I love you," he half-sobbed, "and I find you… beautiful." And Richard, hearing the truth in the words, gave him the release he needed, driving his cock home hard until, clinging together as if they'd never part, they came as one.


End file.
